No return was made to cries that resounded could be found. the eager "cooing over the plain. The next day, Saturday, the search was resumed. It was continued no less earnestly, but, alas! with as little success. On this day word was sent to the neighbouring stations, and men in numbers flocked to Spring Hill to render aid. Sunday morning saw above thirty horsemen scouring the heath in all directions, but yet no track was found. On Monday, at dawn of day, they returned to their willing labour, all of them desponding, many of them quite hopeless; for, as is common in this unsteady clime, on Saturday night heavy rains fell, and on Sunday night there was keen frost; so it was argued, and with reason, that little ones, so unsheltered and unprovided, could not thus long survive. On this day, however, two men, far apart from the others, actually came upon the children's track. Afraid to lose sight of it, they would not for a moment leave the track; they spent the night on it; and on Tuesday one of them carried the joyous intelligence to the others, while his companion remained on the spot. Mr. Smith, who had returned from a journey only the evening before, now took command of the company of trackers; and, in consequence, in somewhat more of an organized party they repaired to the place where the track had been discovered, about ten miles from the home station. With difficulty they followed it through the heath, and had progressed but a short distance, when darkness fell and prevented their going further. It was an unspeakable grief to these earnest men to be obliged to give up the search even for a time; but the sorrows of that night were greatly increased as the clouds drew thickly and murkily around, and the wind rose high and rain in torrents fell. They thought of the children, if still living, exposed to such a tempest; and, if dead, then. their bodies were hopelessly lost, for after rains so heavy the tracks which had yesterday been discernible would be altogether obliterated. It was as they feared. In the morning no traces could be found, and Wednesday and Thursday were occupied in searching for the tracks they had lost, and searching in vain. On Thursday night all hope seemed to be given up; but the father clung to the possibility of yet recovering his children, and set out to a station thirty miles away, where, it was supposed, that natives were at work. In his absence the search was continued on Friday. A neighbour. ing settler, Mr. Alexander Wilson, of Vectis, a man of great colonial experience and remarkable acuteness, joined the party. Before the day had far advanced he was happy enough to recover the track. He followed it on very slowly but surely; often for near hour at a time on his hands and knees; still keeping it in view and pegging as he went along, that what was gained might not afterwards be lost. an Thus was Friday occupied. During the night, the father returned with three blacks from behind Mount Elgin-Dickey, Jerry, and Fred-and early on Saturday the tracking was resumed where Mr. Wilson had left off the previous evening. At once the superiority of the blacks was apparent. They detected three tracks where at best only one had before been seen, and they travelled on at a greatly more rapid rate. Indeed, the work now became intensely interesting. Hope revived in every heart, and the expectation was cherished of even yet finding the little ones alive. Ever and again, too, touching incidents in the travellers' journeyings were being read off by those keen-sighted men. "Here little one tired; sit down. Big one kneel down, carry him along." "Here travel all night; dark; not see that bush; her fall on him." And what was indeed affecting, "Here little one tired again; big one kneel down; no able to rise; fall flat on his face." All this, let me mention here, which the blacks discovered, was quite corroborated by the children themselves. As the party went along, they saw at a short distance a rise, much resembling that near the station to which the children were sent for broom. It was supposed they would have made for that rise, and it was found they had done so. They had fancied that now at length they were nearing home; and although these children had been wandering four days in the heath, they forgot not the errand on which they were sent, but anew gathered the broom their mother required. Then, having tied it with the rope, they went on through the timber, joyful in the prospect of home, the eldest running on before, and encouraging the other two (so they told us). But, alas! how sad their disappointment. Reaching the farther side of the timber, not the home station nor their father's hut appeared in view, but a vast ocean of dark and dreary heath, stretching away to the utmost horizon. Despairing now, the little fellow untied his bundle, threw away the broom, and, we may well imagine, if he had tears left to shed, they abundantly flowed. The afternoon of Saturday was now advancing. On this day the children were to be found, and in connection with their recovery God's hand must more signally appear. The blacks were carrying on the tracks, sometimes slowly, sometimes at a more rapid pace. Mr. Wilson and Mr. Smith were behind. About three o'clock, the former gentleman, for a moment or two looking very carefully along the line, espied what seemed a fresher track, coming in and crossing that which they were traversing like the lines of the letter X. He called the blacks. They at once recognized it as the latest, and leaving the line they had been following, struck off in a northerly direction. Most happy discovery, for by it three days of the children's wanderings were bounded over as by a leap, and most happily followed up; for in less than half a mile it led to a little chamber naturally formed of stringy bark saplings, in which-the blacks at once knew-the little wanderers had slept the night before. And now desire was ardent to push on to overtake the children, it may be in their dying hours. The father felt as if God was going to give him his children again." Once or twice, early in the day, some valuable time had been saved by riding on before the trackers, and picking up the track ahead, He would try this on 66 The a more extensive scale; but in what direction to go he knew not. He would "trust to God," and laying the reins on his horse's neck would let it go forward. Nor was this trust confounded. horse set forth at a canter, and soon led on to the track full three quarters of a mile ahead. Then three times in succession did Mr. Wilson gain half a mile, more or less, and in this way the distance was greatly shortened. For this there was need. The hour of sunset was drawing near, and it would be indeed heartrending, when so near, to be obliged to retire ere yet the children were found. Once more the father rode forward to a rising ground in the heath. From there he saw a short distance onward a clump of saplings resembling those which formed the previous night's camp. He would ride so far ere he went back. Onward he went ; and ere yet he reached the spot, he saw, or thought he saw, what seemed a covering moving in the wind. Putting spurs to his horse, he cleared the distance with a bound, and to his indescribable joy, found it was even as he hoped. There, as if in a little chamber of saplings, on a bed of broom heath, curtained and canopied over with the boughs of the trees, his three young children lay, the youngest in the middle carefully wrapped in his sister's frock. They appeared to be in a deep and not unpleasant sleep, and their father feared at once to disturb them. Soon the arrival of the others awoke the wearied sleepers. The eldest first attempted to sit up. His face was worn and emaciated; his mouth contracted so that the lips failed to cover the teeth; his eyes glared wildly, yet seemed to fix upon his father; he tried to speak; but the tongue lacked moisture, and he could but feebly groan Father," and fell back again. Meanwhile the youngest had awoke, and with a naiveté which never deserts him, looked up and almost laconically said, "Father, why didn't you come for us sooner? we were cooing for you." But the kind girl who had carried the little boy, when, weary, he could walk no further, and who on the wet Friday night, as on this, had stripped herself of her frock "to cover Frankfort, he was crying with cold,"—the selfdenying sister seemed almost quite gone, for when they took her in their arms and would raise her up, she opened not her eyes, but crouching herself together, tremulously murmured, "Cold, cold!" It was now about sunset, but the children were found; and though it was eight miles to the nearest hut, it was not doubted that distance would be traversed safely. As they went along the children were fed with crumbs of bread and butter, and coming to a swamp they were much revived by water. About eight o'clock the hut was reached, and then motherly hands and a warm bed received the little ones, who for eight long nights lay exposed and uncomforted on the cold heath. It is interesting to know that as soon as the little girl got warm in bed, and so as if come to herself again, they heard her in distinct accents begin to repeat her evening prayer— "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child." And it is still more interesting to know that night after night, as the children lay down on that cold desolate heath, sometimes heard by her brothers, sometimes heard by none but that blessed Saviour Himself, this little girl, in precious words happily taught her; sought the care and guardianship of Him who alone could hear her; and who will say that He who hears the cry of the raven's young, and giveth them their food, would unheedingly turn away from the cry of a desolate child? Rather let us gratefully acknowledge the answer of prayer in these children's wonderful preservation nine days without food, and in the no less remarkable guidance which led those who were seeking them to the very spot where the children were found, and that at such a critical hour. On the Sabbath morning they were taken to their parents' hut, a distance of about sixteen miles; and by God's good hand upon them they have gathered strength day by day, and are now able to walk about, though feebly, and liable to be soon fatigued. It is certain that the children were nine days without food of any sort, and at least five days without water, except the rain that fell by night. It is calculated they must have walked considerably more than sixty miles. It is known that they walked twenty miles on the first day, and over four miles on the last, THE JAMAICA MISSION.-"IN MEMORIAM.” BY THE REV. J. HOBY, D.D. "IN MEMORIAM" may fitly commence this short Jubilee paper, because in looking through the fifty years of our Jamaica missionary history, no name is more worthy of honourable and affectionate remembrance than that of John Rowe, herein to be commemorated as the pioneer of the great philanthropic and Godlike undertaking. He first, in the spirit and after the example of the Redeemer of men, went to preach deliverance to these poor captives the opening of the prison to them that were bound. Jubilee is a word both indicative of joy, and significant of a cycle of years. It was first used to designate that fiftieth year in the legation of Moses, when, by sound of trumpet, the universal holiday was proclaimed to Israel. There could be but one such year in half a century. It was a year of emancipation to the slave-the recovery of every man's inheritance, and restoration to ease, comfort, and prosperity of all the unfortunate and impoverished. To nothing in Jewish history and experience can the words of the Psalmist be more emphatically applied when he said, "Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound,' دو The introduction of the Gospel to any portion of the human family, may, with great propriety and beauty, be considered a fulfilment of the prophecy in Isa. xxvii. 13-"The great trumpet shall be blown, and they shall come which were ready to perish.' Jubilee is therefore applied to many evangelical and benevolent associations and enterprises, when they have reached the fiftieth year of their organization. Our Missionary Society celebrated its Jubilee in 1842, at Kettering, in Northamptonshire. That meeting was unique in its associations and arrangements. Never before had the denomination been roused to such generous energy, and never did it present so promising an aspect. We may well consider it as having inaugurated a new era in our missionary enterprise. Meantime the progress of events in Jamaica became more and more interesting. The slaves had celebrated their Jubilee of freedom, August 1, 1838. Not one half of the period of a Jubilee had elapsed at that time, since the commencement of our mission there in 1814; and the completion of the cycle brings us down to about the time of our recent public agitation of the great question-What more can be done for the coloured race of Africans and their descendants ? Our very success among them enhances our obligations. If divine indignation against "the sum of all villanies" justified Cowper in his day, when he exclaimed in reference to the blasphemous supposition that God sanctioned slavery "Hark! He answers. Wild tornadoes, Strewing yonder sea with wrecks; -should not "all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of Him" now? Multitudes are aghast at the wide-spread desolations and horrors of American civil war. The lust of dominion and the love of slavery carry men into the wildest and most profligate enormities. Scripture and religion are fearfully desecrated, and the God of Love is dishonoured, Although it may be impossible to reach anything like the success of 1842, we can do effective service towards the education and elevation of the black man; is social, intellectual, moral, and religious improvement, must be the sacred duty of all who maintained that the immediate total and universal abolition of slavery was the most wise, safe, and easy method of dealing with that great question. Such was the ground we uniformly occupied; let us not shrink from our responsibilities, but generously respond to the appeals of the brethren who have entered into the labours of Rowe and the heroic band of missionaries who followed him into the field. Mr. John Rowe was a young man of a mild and quiet spirit. While a student, from Yeovil, at Bristol College, his amiable temper won for him the affectionate regard of all. There was nothing brilliant in his talents of attainments, but, with a sound understanding, and great simplicity of character and manners, he was distinguished for quiet common sense. In person he was short and stout, with a florid complexion, and features far from indicating the great and generous thoughts which were working within. The writer does not remember that the holy purpose of this estimable youth was known by any of his associates till a few weeks previous to its being carried into effect. Bristol College was, at the time referred to, the residence of several others, whose names have since been enrolled in our missionary records, as labouring abroad to enlarge the kingdom of Christ among the heathen. The kindred spirits of Yates, Eustace Carey, Trowt, and others, could well appreciate the love and zeal of Mr. Rowe, whose self-sacrifice in devoting himself to the poor, ignorant, down-trodden slaves, seemed a more Christ-like service than even their own, and involved the more entire privation of all the blessings of civilization and refinement, and Christian intercourse, as well as the possibility of intellectual culture. It was on the last day of the year1813, that the writer was privileged to lend such final assistance to Mr. and Mrs. Rowe as was needed, and then, at the request of Dr. Ryland, to accompany them to the ship, and going on board with them to drop down to Pill, and then finally to take leave. Both husband and wife may be said "in patience to have possessed their souls." The lapse of a half century, with all the vicissitudes of those fifty years, has not obliterated the memory of that quiet parting, which had none of the poetry and romance of many a subsequent missionary embarkation. The stern reality of an arduous and hazardous undertaking, which yet was for Christ's sake and for the salvation of poor slaves, to be entered upon by themselves alone, was the thought present to our minds. But little was known of the few humble disciples of Jesus, who had been gathered by the preaching of Moses Baker; and when Mr. Rowe landed at Montego Bay, February 23rd, 1814, and proceeded to Flamstead, where Baker lived, it was only to discover that for several years the poor old man had been hindered in his work, to the entire ruin and scattering of his little flock. Neither preaching, nor ordinances, nor prayer meetings, had for a long time solaced the sorrows of these slaves. There were, doubtless, many negro Baptists scattered in different places, the fruits of such teaching as was supplied by a few of their race from America; but so far as Mr. Rowe was concerned, and in that part of the island where Moses Baker had laboured, he felt himself to be a pioneer, and indeed was but as the solitary leader of a "forlorn hope." Perseverance was in him eminently allied with prudence, and while he aimed at "giving no offence in anything," he never once thought of relinquishing the work to which he had consecrated himself. The second time Mr. Rowe preached to the people who had formerly attended to the teaching of Moses Baker, the wild and ungodly son of the old man, who had been a grief and a hindrance to his father, was brought under serious concern, and finally converted from the error of his ways. Other instances of usefulness somewhat cheered the young missionary; but he was soon silenced by the authorities, and compelled to confine himself almost exclusively to teaching a school. We cannot sufficiently admire the indomitable spirit of the servant of Christ; determined to do what he could amidst surrounding jealousy, suspicion, and hindrance. In a few months he had lived down hostility; and, while sighing of ten for the fellowship of saints, and grieving on account of surrounding wickedness, though single-handed in the conflict, he persevered in the holy war. |